


A Subtle Confession (Mr. Burns x Smithers) ~COMPLETE~

by Kuroenamel



Category: The Simpsons
Genre: Burns, Burns x Smithers, Charles Montgomery Burns - Freeform, Gay, Gay Lemon, Gay Love, Gay Romance, Gay Sex, Gay Smut, I Ship It, Lemon, Love, M/M, Montgomery Burns - Freeform, Monty Burns, Mr. Burns x Smithers, Mr. Smithers, Romance, Smithers - Freeform, The Simpsons - Freeform, Yaoi, simpsons - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2020-01-15 07:18:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 12,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18494068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kuroenamel/pseuds/Kuroenamel
Summary: ~COMPLETED~When Mr. Burns finds a series of love letters from Mr. Smithers, Burns is forced into thoughts he never thought he'd have, and is met with the decision of confronting Smithers or keeping his assistant's secret to himself.WARNING: This story does have two chapters of smut, so be warned if you choose to proceed. The chapters are minor enough in plot that they can be skipped, though.





	1. Chapter one - The First Love Letter

Smithers didn't know exactly when his feelings had started to develop towards his boss, but one thing was for sure, it wasn't getting better, nor was it staying the same--it was getting worse. His first letter started around 1989. It was not very well written, and a bit messy since Smithers hadn't quite gotten a handle on his feelings just yet.

Mr. Burns,

I can't imagine something like this ever happening. I've known you all my life, and yet just now this is happening? It's not that I'm just finding out I'm gay, I've known for some time, I just . . . didn't think it would have an affect on you. I don't know what's happening, Mr. Burns! I wish you could explain this to me. It's almost sickening to think of what's going on in my mind. I . . . I don't know. I don't know if I'll ever send you this, for I know you'd fire me, or disown me. Maybe you'd never talk to me again. I don't want to think about this. 

-Waylon Smithers

Looking back on the letter, Smithers chuckled to himself. He was so . . . premature in his feelings then, and back then, he didn't even picture any feelings like those he was feeling now. And the fact that these feelings went as far back as this was nerve wracking.

Some of the situations he'd been having with his boss were making it even more uncomfortable. Mr. Burns would occasionally brush up against him or vice versa, which would always send shocks down Smithers' spine. Mr. Burns would sometimes notice the visible shift in Smithers' behavior, but he never once called him out on it or questioned him.

What is happening to you, Waylon? He asked himself, shaking his head. 

"Is something wrong, Smithers?" Mr. Burns asked.

"No, everything's fine, Sir," Smithers replied.

"Back to work then. We don't want you slacking off, do we?"

"No, Sir."

Something seemed off, but Smithers couldn't quite tell what. He continued with his work, filing paperwork -- most of it overdue -- , chuckling to himself when he came across a letter that Mr. Burns wrote to his mother. The handwriting was sloppy, and though it didn't look like that of his boss, it was recognizable enough to be deemed his. Based off of the content, Smithers concluded that Mr. Burns must have been drunk when he wrote it.

My "dearest" mother, It read

I regret to inform you that I do not think I want to be, want you to be in my life anymore. I don't know... I don't know why I'm writing this, okay I'm done writing this.

Sincerely,

-C. Montyyy Burns

Yeah, he was definatley drunk.

"Hey, Monty?" he called, quickly cursing to himself at the unprofessional name choice. He prayed Mr. Burns wouldn't notice.

"Yes, Smithers?" he didn't say anything about the name.

"What would you like me to do with this letter to your mother?"

"Give me that!" he snatched it out of his hand, reading it over. His brow furrowed in confusion. "I did not write this, Smithers. Where did you find it?"

"With all the other paperwork, Sir."

"I did not write this, Smithers."

"If you say so, Sir. What would you like me to do with it?"

"Throw it away -- I have no use for it."

"Of course, Sir."

Mr. Burns handed the note back to Smithers as he threw it in the garbage. He sighed, secretly wondering what had prompted Burns to get drunk like this. Sure, he had his fare share of drinks not too rarely, but it was uncommon for him to get mood-altering drunk. He shook the thought off, and continued with filing paperwork.

"Hey, Smithers? What's this? It's addressed to me. Who's it from?"

Smithers' face went white in horror as he understood what he meant. He sprinted to his boss, snatching the letter from his hands before he could even open it.

"What the hell, Smithers? It was addressed to me?"

Quick, think of something, idiot! He thought. Last minute, he came up with a half-baked excuse. "Oh, it was just that we were getting some threats towards you, and need to check the mail before you open it. I hope you understand, Sir."

Mr. Burns seemed a bit suspicious, but nodded, motioning him off with his hand. "Very well, but as soon as you check it, give it back to me."

"Will do, Sir."


	2. Chapter two - The Second Letter

Monty,

I don't know what's going on with me. You're all I can think about. You're giving me anxiety, Monty. I can't stop . . . I don't know what to do. What should I do? Is this even worth it? You are everything I've ever dreamed of, and it's stupid luck that you don't feel the same way. It's unfair. I don't even think you're gay . . .

There's something that's been on my mind -- my dad, Waylon SR. How well did you know him? I never really got to meet him, I was just an infant when he died. Did you two get along. These weren't the main questions. Were you two . . . close? Like, in love? I only ask because it recently dawned on me that to be in love with someone who raised you is weird, but being in love with someone who raised you and was in love with your father is even weirder. It seems . . . wrong. Please, I need answers, Monty. I don't know what to do or what to think. I don't know if I'll ever ask you about this, but when or if I do, please be gentle. I don't know what I'm doing.

You've been a bit nicer to me these past few days. It may be because of that new woman you've been seeing. I don't really like her. I hope you get over her soon, Monty. I love you. I don't think I'll ever have the proper time to say that to you, but I want to tell you before I can't anymore. You mean more to me than all the money you've ever spend plus more.

I think I may be able to eventually accept in the future that you'll never feel this way about me. It will take some time, but I think I can. Do you think I can? Who knows, maybe my feelings will leave me. I don't know if you know how it feels to truly be in love, but it's painful, Monty. It's painful. I hope you never have to feel the pain I'm feeling now. It's unbearable.

It fills me with joy each time you need something from me, whether that be with chores or someone to talk to. It makes me happy when you let me make you happy. I want to be your assistant until the day you die. I will always be by your side unless you kick me out yourself.

And that's one of the things I'm worried about with this confession. I don't want you to disown me, but I would understand if you did. If I were in your place, I'm not sure I would be as comfortable with that person.

I love you, and will never leave you.

Forever yours,

-Waylon


	3. Chapter three - Loss

Smithers didn't know what took over him. All of the emotion, if any, that he was feeling seemed to be either numb or drenched in sadness and loss.

It was almost funny, nothing significant had happened, but the overwhelming feeling almost felt as if everyone and everything was . . . gone.

He had gotten permission from Mr. Burns to go on vacation, though it was more as if Mr. Burns was getting permission from Smithers. Burns had pressured him to go somewhere else, maybe Hawaii, but Smithers couldn't bring himself to stray far enough from the center of his life, so he decided to spend his week - long vacation at his home.

Smithers assumed Mr. Burns had hired a temporary replacement for his job, but he never heard who was filling the role. And now, four days into the break, and Mr. Burns hadn't even called. Smithers started to worry, but reassured himself that it must have meant that nothing was wrong enough for him to need to call.

Smithers decided to take Mr. Burns up on his offer of a trip to Hawaii, and boarded a three hour plane that would hopefully distance himself from his feelings, and true source of them as much as possible.

And still, there was this growing feeling in the pit of his stomach. He associated it with his boss, but the feeling didn't seem like love. It was painful and depressing, and Smithers didn't know what to do about it. Whenever this feeling started to occur, Smithers found himself curled up in bed, staring at the wall. Every so often, his phone would ring or chime with a new text. Each time it did, Smithers got his hopes up, and quickly checked his phone, but more often than not, it was either spam or someone irrelevant asking him out to a drink.

Smithers could tell his friends were becoming worried with the sudden loss of contact, and they knew that it had something to do with Mr. Burns. But not once did Smithers pick up the phone if the ID didn't read, Mr. Burns <3 

Six days had passed, and Smithers was becoming more and more anxious to face his boss. A small part of him wanted to call in and ask for an extended vacation, which he knew his boss would indulge, but Smithers did not like the idea of being away from his love more than necessary.

In the middle of the sixth day, the phone rang again, and Smithers checked it, slower this time. He jolted up in bed as he saw the contact title. He quickly answered the call.

"Is everything alright, Sir?" he asked, panic clear in his voice. He could hear his boss chuckling on the other end.

"Yes, yes, I'm quite alright, Smithers. You shouldn't have answered the call as quickly as you did, you're supposed to be relaxing!"

"Y-yes, I'm very sorry, Sir."

"Don't apologize. How have you been spending your time?" Mr. Burns asked. Smithers was incredibly relieved to hear his love's voice for the first time in a while, but that unwelcome feeling was building in the pit of his stomach. He made a mental note to identify it later.

"Oh, not much, Sir. I've mostly been sleeping, to tell the truth."

"Ah, I see . . . well, one man's torture is another's pleasure. I trust you're enjoying yourself alright?"

"Yes, Sir, thank you. Did . . . did you need anything?"

"Not really, Smithers. To be perfectly honest, I got a bit worried since you hadn't called . . . but then again, it's not your job to call me on your vacation. I was just . . . concerned, is all. But I'm glad to hear you're doing alright."

"O-oh, thank you, Sir," it was a rush to have his boss express concern for him, and he could feel the negative feeling in his stomach start to fade, replaced with teenage - like giddiness.

"Ah, I must go, I'm afraid the new assistant misplaced some important paperwork. Well, ahoy!"

"Wait, Sir, who's the-" Smithers was cut off by the click on the other end of the phone. Not surprising, but still disheartening nonetheless.

"I'll be back soon, Sir," Smithers said to himself.


	4. Chapter four - Return

The final days of Smithers' vacation had finally come to an end, and it was time to return to his beloved boss. Smithers packed up his things, and made his way towards the airport. The taxi man gave him a knowing look at the giddy expression, and chuckled, starting the car.

"Returning to your lover, eh?" He asked.

Smithers let out a nervous chuckle. "Yes, I guess you could say that."

"Ah. Lucky girl."

"Yes . . ."

The taxi arrived at the airport, and Smithers exited the vehicle, bringing his suitcase with him. The taxi driver thanked him for the tip, and left.

The three hour plane ride seemed like an eternity as Smithers waited impatiently to see his love. When the plane landed, it did little but soothe his nerves. He jumped into the taxi cab headed for the nuclear power plant, and tried calming himself down.

Stepping out of the car, Smithers made his way up to the plant, maneuvering his way around the impossible cluster that was the Springfield Powerplant parking situation.

Smithers knocked lightly on the door to his boss' office. A moment passed, and all that could be heard was a small whimper through the door.

Oh God. Smithers thought. Is Mr. Burns okay? He may be in danger!

Swinging open the door, Smithers stopped in his tracks at the sight in front of him. A woman, whom he recognised to be as Gloria, whom Mr. Burns had dated in the past stood, rather kneeled in front of Mr. Burns, her mouth around his . . . oh no. Not this.


	5. Chapter five - Compensation

Smithers' jaw hung slack as he took in the sight before him. More strained sounds came from his boss, and Smithers could tell he didn't sound to be in pain at all, rather ecstasy!

Jolting up, Mr. Burns caught sight of Smithers, and immediately yelped. Gloria moved off of him, and stumbled back in surprise. She turned to see a distraught and shocked Smithers, and started to clean herself up, exiting the room.

"Ah, Smithers . . ." Burns said. "I see you've returned early!"

"Y-yes, Sir."

"Well, back to work, then." Mr. Burns cleared his throat, motioning Smithers away.

Smithers turned, and exited the room, his face bright red. Although it was not evident to Mr. Burns, Smithers was hurt beyond words.

\---

A clearing of the throat interrupted Smithers from his thoughts. He lulled his head upwards, turning red immediately when he noticed who was standing in front of him.

"Smithers . . ." Mr. Burns said. "I apologize for what you, erm, had to see there. If there's anything . . ."

"Nonsense Sir," Smithers smiled weakly. "If anything, I should be the one offering compensation. How rude of me it was to just burst in there like that. I hope you can forgive me."

"C-certainly, Smithers." Burns stuttered. Smithers' smile became slightly more genuine at this, and he returned to his paperwork without complaint.

It took a few moments for the truth to finally set in. Mr. Burns is sleeping with a woman! Someone that's . . . not me. Of course, what should I expect from him? He is held to no standards when it comes to this! Smithers shook his head and tried to relieve the depression that was seeping into his body. The terrible feeling returned, but Smithers didn't resist.

"This is what I deserve, isn't it?"


	6. Chapter six - Karma

Monty,

It's been a while since I've written another letter. Another letter I won't send. I'm not sure as to what the point of all of this is . . . maybe it's to fill some sort of void that has been created by your lack of affection . . . I hate profiling myself.

I'm sorry that I'm always acting so strangely around you -- I can't help it. I don't know how I feel or what to feel around you. This feeling, it's growing stronger, and at this point, I don't know what I can do to stop it.

Should I stop it?

I'm starting to feel like I deserve this . . . all of this pain. I have tried so many times to move on, but nothing is working, Monty.

Maybe the world is just giving me some harsh karma for living, for existing. Do you believe in karma? You always told me that my father died and that he had it coming to him, but you never really elaborated.

Am I going to have the same fate as my father, Monty? Am I going insane?

Should I be going insane?

I don't know what to do, Monty. I had no idea . . . when these feelings started to grow, I had no idea how bittersweet this would be.

I'm sorry.

-Waylon


	7. Chapter seven - Sideshow Bob

"Hello, hello, 'tis I!" A cheerful and slightly melodic voice rang through the halls of the nuclear power plant. A pale man with crimson bushy hair, slightly resembling a palm tree waltzed up to the doorway to Mr. Burns' office. Smithers cleared his throat.

"Hello, Sideshow," he grumbled.

"Why, if it isn't Mr. Smithers! And please call me Bob. I don't identify with that title anymore."

"Very well, Bob. Why are you here?" Smithers asked, slightly annoyed. The last time Smithers had interacted with Sideshow Bob, he had pestered Smithers with his views.

"Why, I have come to talk to Mr. Burns, of course!"

"Very well, I'll page him."

"No need," Bob said, pushing open the doors to Mr. Burns' office. Burns cocked his head upwards, letting out a small gasp at the sudden intrusion.

"Why if it isn't Bob Terwilliger! What can I do you for, gentleman?"

"Ah, hello, Monty. It really has been too long, don't you think? I am here to offer you a business proposal."

"Oh? And what might that be?"

"I would like to work for you, Mr. Burns."

"Ah, well file a request, and Smithers will interview you."

"That's just it."

"Oh?"

"I want to be your personal assistant."

"You mean . . . ?"

"Yes. I would like to take Smithers' place, Mr. Burns."

\---------

W-what?! Smithers thought inwardly. Sideshow Bob wants my position? Like hell he'll get it! I've been with Mr. Burns for as long as I can remember, and no Republican is taking that away from me!

"Smithers?" Mr. Burns called from the other room. "Could you come in here?"

Smithers slowly entered Mr. Burns' office, and as he did, Sideshow Bob exited. Smithers stood awkwardly in front of his boss, unsure of what to say.

"I'm sure you heard the conversation from the other room."

"I-I did, Sir."

"I regret to inform you that I'm considering the proposition."

"W-what?! Surely-"

"No arguing, Smithers. It makes me age even more rapidly than I already am. I am merely considering what he said --- no need to be concerned yet."

Yet.

"S-Sir . . . if I need to improve on anything, please tell me. But you can't-"

"Not so fast, Smithers. I can, and I just might. So igad, man, get yourself together before I fire you here and now!"

"Y-yes, Sir," Smithers said, leaving the room, quickly enough to see Sideshow Bob smirking at him as he left the room.

"Well?" Bob asked. "Did ol' Burnsie say anything about hiring me?"

"He said he's considering it," Smithers growled.

"Well, we'll see just what happens in the end," Sideshow Bob murmured under his breath. Smithers turned.

"What did you say?"

"I said, 'we'll see just what happens in the end'."

"I'll have you know, I've been working for him for-"

"Well, that may be true, but I am a competitive man, an I don't take kindly to being upstaged. Plus, this is a golden opportunity for me. I'd hate to miss it. Well, 'ta!"

And just like that, Sideshow Bob left a broken hearted and stressed Smithers with his pessimistic thoughts.


	8. Chapter eight - Discovery

As per Mr. Burns' request, Smithers took the next day off due to his stress caused by Sideshow Bob. He stayed at home with Hercules, his dog, and watched terrible soap operas. Not once had he gotten a single notification, let alone call on his phone, and it was slightly driving him mad. He was used to being busy, and active socially, at least online, but everything seemed so . . . empty.

Mr. Burns had decided he was alright on his own for a day, and decided against hiring a temporary substitute. Going through paperwork was a task that only Smithers seemed to be able to handle, and Burns had soon succeeded at accidently tearing two pieces of paper apart in annoyance.

"Damnit," he murmured, searching for a stapler within the confines of his desk. After a few minutes of searching he threw up his hands in defeat. "Well, Smithers is bound to have one --- he does this kind of thing every day."

Mr. Burns got up from his desk, and made his way to Smithers'. Rummaging around his desk, Mr. Burns opened drawers, and mini - cabinets, but no stapler was found. He opened the last drawer on the bottom right, glancing over the contents. There was no stapler, but a piece of paper with his name on it caught his eye. He picked it up with curiosity, and squinted at the slightly messy and small writing.

"Ugh, I need my reading glasses . . ."

Mr. Burns took the piece of paper back to his desk, disregarding the lost stapler, pulled out his reading glasses, and sat down.

His eyes skimmed over the paper, and his eyes widened within the first few sentences:

Monty,

It's been a little while since I've written you another letter.

"Another letter?" Mr. Burns quizzed aloud. He shook his head from the confusion and continued.

There is currently the possibility . . . of losing my job. You can't do that to me, Monty.

Mr. Burns scowled. How informal.

I honestly don't know what to do at this point . . . you've never paid me any attention, and I'm starting to wonder; is this even worth it? I mean sure, love can be a wonderful, wonderful feeling, but if you've truly ever been in love, you'll know it can be so painful. I'm sorry. I really don't know what to do anymore.

-Waylon

Mr. Burns shook his head to calm himself down. Love? What did he mean by "love"? Surely, Smithers wasn't in love with him, was he? No, he couldn't be! And he never explicitly said that he did. It was probably irrelevant. Yes, that was what he would tell himself. Of course Smithers wasn't in love with him!

Mr. Burns carefully returned the paper to Smithers' desk, making sure nothing looked tampered with. He then returned, not even bothering with the stapler, and continued the paperwork.


	9. Chapter nine - Misplaced

Mr. Burns paced back and forth that night, contemplating what on earth he should do. Surely, I can't confront Smithers about this letter. Was he even intending on sending it? Lord, I'm so confused.

His phone rang shortly after, interrupting his thoughts. He checked the caller ID, only to see it was Smithers. He begrudgingly picked up the phone not wanting to hear his assistant's voice at the moment.

"H-hello?"

"Hello, Sir. Is everything alright?"

"Y-yes, Smithers. Good God, man, it's 12 in the morning! Shouldn't you be sleeping?"

"I could sleep. I was wondering if you were awake, and . . . I just wanted to check on you."

"Well, I appreciate it, Smithers. I really should be sleeping-"

"I'm sorry."

"Excuse me?" Mr. Burns said, confused.

"I know I've been a bit off lately, and I'm not sure if you've noticed it or not, but I've been a bit sidetracked lately, and for that I wanted to apologize."

"Ah, well, don't worry about it, Smithers. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Sir."

\------

Smithers awoke the next morning with the feeling similar to a hangover, though he hadn't drank at all the night before. Splashing some water on his face, he brushed his teeth and got ready for the day ahead. He was nervously anticipating seeing Mr. Burns again. He had gotten the feeling that something was off, and he knew to trust his gut when it came to Burns. But he couldn't imagine what could have happened.

"Hello, Sir!" Smithers said cheerfully, walking into his office. "I trust everything went well yesterday?"

"O-oh, Smithers! Why yes, it did," Smithers started to grow suspicious at Mr. Burns' sudden awkwardness, though it was not too uncommon.

"Glad to hear it. What would you like for me to work on, Sir?"

"Well, there was some paperwork I couldn't get done yesterday, I was wondering if you could do that . . ."

Smithers grinned. "Yes, of course, Sir."

He took the two separated pieces of paper in his hands. Wow, I guess he did need my help . . . 

Reaching for his stapler in the bottom right drawer --- the same place he kept his letters to his boss, he noticed something was missing. With a jolt of panic, he realized the letter was missing from the drawer. He frantically searched the drawers, and finally found it right above the one it was supposed to be in. He sighed in relief.

He didn't remember putting the letter there, but who knows, a lot of things were jumbled in his mind.


	10. Chapter ten - To Confront, or Not to Confront?

"A-ah, Sideshow Bob!" Mr. Burns said, welcoming the red - haired man into his office. "Come back to discuss your little work proposition, have you?"

"Why, indeed I have! Any updates as of now?"

"I'm afraid not. I am still considering a number of factors."

"Oh please," Sideshow Bob said. "You honestly think this plant, and you would be better off with this joke of an assistant?"

"I know you two have had your differences, but you have no right to-"

"Is it true?"

"Is what true?" Burns raised an eyebrow, curious.

"What they've been saying. If it's true, I owe someone twenty dollars," Sideshow Bob said with a roll of his eyes.

"By God, be more clear, man!"

"They've been saying you two are dating!" Bob practically yelled. "We all know Smithers has had those feelings for you for some time now, it's practically a matter if you feel the same way."

"I assure you, I have no idea what you're talking about, Robert."

"Mhm. And the White House isn't white."

"Leave."

"Excuse me?"

"Leave."

Sideshow Bob left the room, grumbling to himself. Shortly after, Smithers entered. "Sideshow Bob was here?" He asked.

"Yes. I'm still considering his proposition."

"Ah, I see . . ."

Mr. Burns considered Smithers' actions --- more closely than he ever had. Based off of what everyone else was saying, he was on his guard an alert for any sign of truth to what they were saying. And what was even scarier was the possible thought:

What if it wouldn't be bad if it was true?


	11. Chapter eleven - Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was inspired by the song "Home" by Phillip Phillips.

Smithers got into work early that day, which wasn't abnormal in the slightest, but Mr. Burns took to noticing every detail, as small as it was. Calling him on edge would have been an understatement, as Burns was developing paranoia for any and all of his assistant's actions. He hadn't gotten much sleep, but didn't bother talking to Smithers about it.

"Are you alright, Sir?" Smithers asked with a worried expression. Mr. Burns had spaced out slightly, not hearing him. "Mr. Burns?"

"Hm-what? Oh, yes, I'm quite alright thank you, Smithers," he mumbled.

Smithers went to the kitchen to cook his boss his breakfast, today consisting of the simple eggs, toast (cut up), and soft bacon --- he wasn't feeling all that creative that morning. Smithers brought Mr. Burns his breakfast, giving him a small smile as he set the tray down in front of him.

"Smithers! What's the meaning of this! Didn't I specifically request last night that I wanted quail egg?!"

"Ah, I'm sorry, Sir . . . but I don't remember you making that request last night. Maybe it was a dream?"

"Don't tell me what to believe," Mr burns snapped. His words weren't yelled, but it was enough to make someone stumble backwards, as was the case with Smithers. The expression on his face must have been evident, because Mr. Burns regained his composure. "Back to work, Smithers."

"W-would you like me to get you the quail-"

"Forget it."

 

The rest of the day was uneventful as Smithers tried his hardest to shake out the harsh memory of Mr. Burns' lashing out.

Don't tell me what to believe, he had said, rather sternly, and Smithers had wondered if there was a hidden meaning to the words.

 

Meanwhile, Mr. Burns paced his office, trying to make sense of the recent events.

I yelled at him, he thought, mournfully. Where did that even come from? He shook his head. In all damnnation, man, get ahold of yourself! Besides, Smithers deserves it. No man should be writing that kind of material towards another man. It was then that he felt something small and wet slowly fall down his cheek. He reached up a hand to feel what it was, and to his surprise, it was a tear. More came, quicker now before his nose started to get congested. Mr. Burns started to sniffle, clamping a hand over his mouth to stifle the quiet sobs. No one could see him cry. No one. 

 

Smithers finished the last of his paperwork, letting out a relieved breath. It was then that he heard some sniffling noises followed by a small whimper. He let out a small gasp. Mr. Burns? He slowly opened his boss' door, looking inside. Sure enough, there was his love, a hand clamped over his mouth, his back turned to Smithers. Smithers refrained from making himself known, as he knew it would only upset Burns further to know someone witnessed him experiencing a moment of vulnerability.

"What am I to do?" Mr. Burns questioned himself aloud. Smithers' curiosity got the better of him, and he inched himself closer to the situation. "I . . . I don't know what . . . to do," he said in between sobs. What is he talking about? Smithers questioned internally. "Surely, I can't face Smithers like this."

Wait, what?!

Smithers couldn't believe what he was hearing. Whatever Mr. Burns was upset about had to do with him? He decided to make his move. Walking into his boss' office, he placed a hand carefully on his shoulder. Mr. Burns jumped and yelled, frantically trying to wipe the tears from his face and seem like he hadn't been crying.

"Ah! Smithers . . . ! Damnit man, you need to knock!"

"I-I'm sorry, Sir. I just heard you crying, and . . ."

"And what?! Don't you know, Smithers, usually when somebody is crying, it means they would like to be left alone! Now I suggest you take that advice and use it for future reference," Mr. Burns said coldly. Smithers flinched.

"I'm sorry Sir," and then he did something unexpected. Wrapping his arms around his love's shoulders, he gave him enough space to get comfortable with the situation, which proved to be more difficult than perceived.

"U-unhand me, Smithers-!" Mr. Burns yelled, flailing.

"You're alright, Sir," he said. "Whatever you're going through, it's going to be okay. And if it's not okay, it's not the end."

"S-Smithers . . ." Mr. Burns murmured. He relaxed, letting his assistant embrace him.

"Just know you're not alone."

"I-I . . ." Mr. Burns stuttered.

 

What is he doing?! Mr. Burns thought frantically. This proves it! He's in love with me! But why does this feel, so . . . nice?


	12. Chapter twelve - What is this?

"Just know you're not alone."

"I-I . . ."

What-what is happening?! Mr. Burns frantically thought. Smithers . . . Smithers can't do this to me.

"Uh, Sir?" Smithers asked. Mr. Burns hadn't noticed that his assistant had let go of him, awkwardly standing by his boss.

"Smithers . . . I think it's best that you leave my office."

"Of course, Sir," Smithers left his boss' office, closing the door gently behind him. Oh, God, I messed up, didn't I? Smithers wondered frantically to himself. He's not going to want to talk to me again . . . I'll surely be fired for this. Of course he knows, and of course he doesn't feel the same way. What am I to do now?

 

In his office, Mr. Burns hung his head, his left hand placed firmly on his desk, and his right planted on his forehead in thought. "What am I to do?" he asked himself aloud. Smithers had always acted similarly to his current actions, letting subtle hints of his emotions slip. Mr. Burns had never noticed them of course --- he had always been blinded by his assistant's position, and could never imagine a man with another man, let alone Smithers with him. What has become of me? He asked. I've . . . I've fallen to this feeling-I don't know what's happened! I'm realizing now that Smithers has always acted this way, but never in this light! Sure, I've had my fair share of women, some of them real lookers themselves, but never quite had a homosexual relationship with another man. Oh, there was that one time in college . . . but that was only an experience. Suddenly, he heard a knock on the door, disturbing him from his thoughts. 

"Mr. Burns?" a faint voice asked from behind the door.

"Come in," he said slowly in response. Though he didn't wish to talk to his assistant at all, he knew it needed to be done. 

"Mr. Burns, I just wanted to say that I-"

"No need, Smithers," Mr. Burns said. "I already know what is to be said by you, and frankly, I don't want to hear it," Smithers was very visibly confused. "I'm sure you know I am aware of your . . . situation."

Smithers let out a small gasp, very well aware of what Mr. Burns was referring to. "You mean . . ?"

"Yes, yes, you and your little feelings."

"Forgive me Sir, but they are not simply 'little feelings.' I have been harboring these for . . . for longer than I can remember! And you have no idea how intense they are."

"Point taken, Smithers, but I doubt that any feelings of that nature from one man to another could be . . . of that nature!"

"You . . . you really think . . ?"

Mr. Burns sighed. "To be honest, Smithers, I'm not sure. I've never thought about anything like this often, and the one time I did, it was extremely short livid-"

"Wait, wait, wait, back up there," Smithers said, chuckling. He was a bit happy to break out of the awkward situation for a moment, and he was genuinely curious. "You've had a homosexual experience?"

"Well, when you say it like that, it sounds weird," Burns said with a wave of his hand. "But yes. Back when I was in college, I met a man. His name was Edward, and he was as young as he was stupid. And of course, it all happened with the cliche game of truth or dare, and it didn't take long before the bastard told me to kiss him."

"Is that all?" Smithers asked. Something didn't seem right. 

Mr. Burns paused. "No. It ended then, but he wanted to continue . . . later."

Smithers started to see where this was going, but he was still curious. "Point taken, Sir, but . . . did anything happen after that night?"

"No, it was merely sex."

"So . . . you did have sex with him?"

"Yes, Smithers, if you must know, but for your inquisitive mind, nothing was . . . penetrative."

Smithers opened his mouth as if to say something, quickly shutting it soon after when he saw the fed-up expression his boss had.

"Smithers," Mr. Burns sighed. "I don't know exactly what you want, but I know I can't give it to you."

"W-why, Sir?"

"Because I know I can't give you sex --- sure, I could easily have a one night stand whenever I pleased --- the women want me, you know, but I never thought in my wildest dreams that I'd have a man want me. And I know that if I did perhaps indulge said man, I wouldn't be the same afterwards. And I know I can't give you a relationship. God knows I love you, Smithers, I do. But I'm not sure either of us are up for that kind of emotional strain. And with . . . emotions as strong as yours, it would be difficult not to plunge into something deep. I know how long you've been waiting, Waylon. And I . . . I'm concerned, to be honest. I am concerned for you. I don't want this to impact our relationship for the worse. I want to have the old Smithers. I want my Waylon back. But even you don't have to say that is easier said than done. But most of all . . . I fear that I may . . . share your monstrous feelings," Mr. Burns could see a shocked expression come over his assistant, and he put up his hands in defense. "Now, this does not by any meas mean that I am going to date you, Waylon. I am an old man, and we both know that I am much too elderly for love. I suggest you leave it at that."

"I-I don't know what to say, Sir," Smithers said. "This is a lot, and I understand that, but I . . . I just want you to know that if you ever do change your mind . . . I am here. I love you, Sir."

"Ah, well, pish tosh," he said, motioning Smithers away. When he was out of earshot, he said, "I do appreciate the notion, though."


	13. Chapter thirteen - A Subtle Confession

I can't believe it! Smithers exclaimed to himself. Yesterday's conversation with Monty went . . . extremely well! Smithers had given much thought to the events of the day before, and declared that his boss did not indeed have the intention of firing him. The thought made Smithers overjoyed as he thought about what his boss would say today. Less pleasant thoughts of what his boss would say began to flood his mind as well, but he pushed them out and decided to stay optimistic.

"Smithers! You're late," Mr. Burns said, stacking some papers. He eyes his assistant carefully. 

"Yes, I am very sorry Sir, but I am in a good mood!"

"Pish tosh, Smithers. That may be, but since when has a good mood ever payed your bills, hm? Put food on your table, eh?"

"Well, actually Sir-"

"I'll have enough of your 'Smithering,' and will be having my morning coffee now," he said, shooing Smithers away.

Smithers returned shortly with coffee, and a stack of papers, some of them torn or wrinkled.

"Now, what in the blazes are these, Smithers?"

"T-these are the rest of my letters, Sir . . ." Smithers said. He could tell his boss was shocked, but he took them into his hands anyways. 

"And what are they doing on my desk?"

"I-I thought maybe . . . you'd want to read the rest of them --- assuming you haven't already. I know it's a bit too late for one, but they could be a sort of . . . well, a subtle confession."

"A subtle confession, eh? Fine, I'll read these monstrosities, on the one condition that you leave me alone for a while! If I am to read these, I will want some peace and quiet beforehand. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir," Smithers left Mr. Burns' office, and returned to his own, letting out a sigh of relief.

Mr. Burns skimmed the first letter, chuckling at the evident change in Smithers' writing style and grammar. Maybe . . . Mr. Burns thought to himself. Maybe I could do this. Maybe a relationship with Smithers wouldn't be so bad.

I . . . I think I love him.


	14. Chapter fourteen - Spontaneous

"Smithers, we are to attend a charity event anon," Mr. Burns said grimly to his assistant at the end of the day. "Now, it isn't as if I want to attend this event, but I'm being peer pressured into it from one of my old Yale buddies. His name is William, and he is even more ancient than I. But not a word to him, as I would like to get this event over with, and not get sucked into a pointless conversation with him about politics and economics. Bah, I could care less."

"Of course, Sir. Should we go shopping for the appropriate clothing beforehand?"

"Not at all, Smithers. I don't see why either of us should put the thought into an event for such a cause of charity."

Smithers helped his boss into their limo before taking off towards the charity event. It was held at a rather large Christian church at the edge of Springfield. Smithers could tell Mr. Burns was dosing off in the back seat of the vehicle.

Smithers and Burns pulled up to the church before examining the place closer. There seemed to be about a hundred people already inside, dancing and drinking. Smithers rolled his eyes. Maybe this will help Mr. Burns open up a little more. "Sir, we're here," he said, gently shaking his boss.

"Wha . . . what? Oh, yes, very well. Help me out, Smithers."

Walking into the event, it was clear they were just slightly overdressed. While Smithers and Mr. Burns wore posh suits and ties (or in Smithers' case, a bowtie), all of the other guests wore casual but formal clothing. Smithers wondered why Mr. Burns would even bother going to such an informal event.

"Why, if it isn't ol' Burnsie!" An energetic voice rang out somewhere within the crowd. Out walked a man, significantly older than Burns --- and it showed, since Mr. Burns looked even younger than his age. He was slightly fat, and wore a doofus - like grin.

"Ah, yes, hello, William. This is Smithers. Smithers, this is William, the one I told you about."

"Oh yes, it's very nice to meet you, William," Smithers said, extending his hand for the man to shake. Mr. Burns rolled his eyes as they shook hands.

"Well, Burnsie, have yourself a good time here tonight. Maybe loosen up a bit so you and your boyfriend can have a little fun later," he said with a wink.

"Bah-what?!" Mr. Burns exclaimed. "He is not my-!" he started to protest, but William had left, leaving a bright read Burns and a chuckling Smithers. "Smithers, stop your cackling!"

A few drinks, and one awkward and apart dance later, Mr. Burns lifted his finger. "Smithers, I demand we return home now. I have had enough of this cheap buffoonery."

"Very well, Sir."

Smithers helped Mr. Burns back into the limo, and shot him an amused glance through the rear view mirror. Mr. Burns rolled his eyes.

"Smithers, I hope you know that we're not . . ." he trailed off.

"Yes, I know. It was merely a humorous joke, nothing more."

"Yes . . ."

All the ride back, Mr. Burns continued to shoot his assistant glares, and even a few curious looks every now and then, as if lost in thought. Smithers returned most of them with a chuckle. 

Suddenly, but quietly, Mr. Burns touched a hand to his heart, then clamped it. Smithers didn't notice until. Mr. Burns made a sort of choking sound. Whipping his head to the mirror to see what was happening, Smithers pulled the vehicle over in panick.

"Sir?" he asked frantically.

"S-Smithers-!" Mr. Burns choked.

"What-what's happening?! I'll call 9-1-1."

"No, don't . . . bother. Let me die in peace."

"Nonsense, Sir, you're not going to die! Take deep breaths, please," Smithers said as calmly as he could. Mr. Burns allowed himself to become a bit more relaxed before moving into a coughing fit once again. After a while he started to calm down, and his hand left his heart.

"I . . . I believe that was a panic attack, Smithers."

"What? What could you possibly have to worry about right now?"

"What do you think, Smithers?" Mr. Burns snapped. A look of realization swept over Smithers' face. "I-I don't know what to feel, or how to act . . . I need help with my emotions, Smithers. I-I just don't know if you're the one to give me that help," that was a lie. Mr. Burns knew damn well that Smithers was the one to give him the help he needed, and what was worse in his mind was that he wanted Smithers to help him. To give him what he wanted. "Smithers, I love you. don't underestimate that. I'm just not sure . . ."

"It's okay, Sir. You don't have to explain yourself to me. You can write a whole novel with just the look in your eyes."

"Bleh! I'll have none of that sappy nonsense at the moment, Smithers, but I do appreciate the intent. Just drive me home."

"Sure, Sir."

Waylon drove a couple more miles before he noticed Mr. Burns stirring in the back of the car. "Is anything wrong?" he asked.

"I think it would be best if you stayed at my house tonight."


	15. Chapter fifteen - Sleepless (Slight smut!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter does include some slight smut, so please skip this chapter if you are uncomfortable with that. If not, enjoy!

"I think it would be best if you stayed at my house tonight," he had said, the words never sounding better in Smithers' ears. Smithers nodded wordlessly, eager to return to the Burns mansion. All the while, Mr. Burns did seem visibly uncomfortable, but it was understandable then.

"Here we are, Sir," Smithers said, getting out of the car to help Mr. Burns out of the back.

"So it seems," Burns mumbled to himself.

As soon as they got inside, Mr. Burns stepped closer to his assistant. "Smithers," he said. "I think you know what the purpose of this was, correct?" Smithers gave an unsure nod. "I am willing to indulge you, just to try it tonight. Who knows what it will sprout, if anything, and I mean that literally," he chuckled. "That is, if you would like to."

"Of course, I would!" Smithers said. "I have been waiting for this."

"Yes, don't remind me. You may lead as I have no idea what I am doing with a man."

Smithers led them to Mr. Burns' bedroom --- he had led his boss there countless times, but never for a purpose like this. He told Mr. Burns to sit on his bed, and dug through his bag to retrieve a small bottle of a clear gel-like liquid. He set it on the nightstand before moving to his lover.

"In this portion, I'm afraid you will have to do the leading, Monty," Smithers' words were coated with lust as he looked deep into Mr. Burns' eyes. Then, Burns did something he had never done before, and took Smithers' face in both of his hands, and brought it to his to press his lips against. He started by kissing his forehead lightly, then the tip of his nose, finally moving to his lips. Smithers gasped in pleasure and relief, savoring the taste and feeling of his lover's mouth.

"Oh, Smithers," Mr. Burns sighed. "I haven't had a kiss that passionate in some time --- even with a woman."

"I love you, Monty."

"And I love you, my dear, dear Waylon," Mr. Burns moved his thin hands to the buttons of his suit, undoing them slightly. He struggled for a while, and eventually gave up, leaving them to Waylon. Smithers obliged, undoing the buttons in record time, as he had done the simple action so many times before. But the action was seen by him in a new light. After sliding the two layers of clothing off of Mr. Burns' chest, Smithers worked on his own, getting them off with ease. He slid the jacket and dress shirt off his back, setting them gently on the floor. He felt Mr. Burns' eyes on him, scanning over his chest, causing him to blush slightly.

"My Waylon, I fear you are far too overdressed."

Waylon chuckled, unbuttoning and sliding off his pants, motioning for Burns to do the same. The old man did it with difficulty, but eventually got them off, and soon, they were both in their underwear.

Smithers leaned down to kiss his lover on the lips before moving to his neck, sucking slightly, then moving down to his chest, stomach, and just above the final piece of clothing. All the while, Mr. Burns moaned and panted in pleasure, encouraging Smithers to continue.

"W-Waylon, yes!" he exclaimed, moving his hands to his hair, tangling it slightly.

Smithers felt himself growing harder by the minute at the sight of Burns, and his moans of pleasure were only making it worse. It was only a matter of time . . .

Mr. Burns carefully slid off his underwear, exposing his hardening growth as well. Smithers did the same, then grabbed the bottle of liquid, pouring some into his hand before spreading it onto his cock. Mr. Burns twitched slightly at the sight of Waylon's dick. My God, it's giant! He thought. How am I possibly supposed to get that thing inside of me? Oh well, Waylon deserves this. 

Smithers positioned himself near Mr. Burns' entrance, making eye contact with him to make sure everything was okay. Mr. Burns nodded slightly as Waylon touched his lover's entrance with himself.

Mr. Burns let out an audible gulp, then yelped. "W-Waylon!" Smithers mistook this as encouragement before Burns gripped his elbow, pushing his chest away slightly. "Waylon-stop!" Smithers did so, pulling away in alarm. 

"Is-is everything okay, Sir? Did I hurt you?" Smithers asked frantically.

"No, no, Smithers. Everything's alright. I . . . I'm not sure I can do this, at least not as of now. I'm sorry, Waylon."

Smithers started to calm down, relaxing. "No, don't apologize. It's perfectly normal for something like this to happen, and you have nothing to apologize for."

"Are . . . are you going to take care of that?" Burns said, motioning to Smithers' erection. "Do you want me to . . ."

"No, don't push yourself. It'll go away, don't worry. Let's get you in some bed clothes."

After Mr. Burns got dressed, he felt the guilt sneak up on him. "Smithers, I'm sorry. I do love you, Waylon. I'm just not ready yet. It'll happen eventually."

"Of course. Don't worry Sir. I love you so much, and I completely understand."

"Would you like to sleep with me tonight?"

"You mean with you, not with you, right?" Smithers said with a chuckle. 

Burns returned the chuckle. "Yes."

"I would like that very much."

Mr. Burns allowed Smithers to sleep in the same bed with them as they both got comfortable. "Goodnight, Waylon. I love you, you know."

"Goodnight, Monty. I love you too," he placed a small kiss on his lover's cheek before settling in.

That night, Waylon found it incredibly difficult to fall asleep. It took about three hours before he could drift off into sleep, as his thoughts drifted and replayed the prior events in his head. It's alright, Monty. I love you more than words could describe, and I understand. 

I understand.


	16. Chapter sixteen - The Morning After the Uneventful Night

Smithers woke up even earlier than usual the morning after to make his lover some breakfast. He tried not to feel sourly about the night before as it was perfectly normal to have second thoughts about an act like that, especially if between two males, and especially if that male is on the receptive side.

After Smithers made his boss' breakfast, he returned to Burns' room, carrying the food on a tray. He saw that Mr. Burns was awake, and looking quite alert and uncomfortable, sitting up in the bed. 

"Ah, Smithers! I see you've made my breakfast," he flailed his arms out like a helpless infant.

"Yes, Sir," Smithers handed him the breakfast. "And I would like you to know that it is perfectly okay to make the decisions and have the thoughts that you did last night. I'd like you to feel as comfortable as possible."

"Whatever are you talking about, Smithers? What happened last night?"

"W-what we were about to do last night, Sir . . ."

"Pish tosh! I could care less about last night's events. Now, leave me to eat!"

Smithers stuttered. "B-but I love you!"

"What did you say?" Burns said through gritted teeth.

"I love you . . . Sir."

"Get out!" Mr. Burns yells. "I don't want to see you or speak to you until you drive me to work."

"Y-yes, Sir . . ." Smithers silently left the room, his heart sinking.

The time until Smithers would drive his boss to work passed quicker than expected. Mr. Burns wordlessly got into the limousine, not even bothering to look at Smithers. And so was the drive to the nuclear power plant --- wordless, not either one of them sharing even a glance. Mr. Burns denied Smithers' help getting out of the car, and made his way to his office.

Smithers got through his work slowly, a bit depressed from the prior events. He organized the paperwork that needed organizing, and stapled the stray pieces of paper, chuckling to himself. This exact stapler was what led Mr. Burns to find my first letter. He thought. And look at where we are now . . . is this an ending?

A sudden phone call shook Smithers from his trance, and he quickly made an effort to pick up the phone. "H-hello?" He said, dazed.

"Smithers," answered a gruff voice. Smithers gasped. It's Mr. Burns! "I have come to a decision," Smithers waited in anticipation. "I would like to go on a date with you," Smithers was at a lost for words. Mr. Burns had never shown this kind of gesture to any woman without some sort of profit for him besides romance. 

"That sounds wonderful, Sir. I'm delighted. But where to?"

"A nice Italian restaurant. I've already made reservations. Show up to my mansion tonight at precisely six o'clock. Be late, and you will regret it."

"Will do, Sir," was all Smithers could say before Burns hung up the phone.


	17. Chapter seventeen - The First Date

Smithers couldn't believe it. He finally got that first date he had always wanted. For years, Smithers had tried to seduce his boss or at least drop hints, and for it to come to fruition by something as simple as a letter was marvelous to him. He finished combing through his hair for the umpteenth time, sighing as he still wasn't satisfied with his appearance tonight. Smithers had picked up some flowers --- white roses, slightly cliche, but they were Mr. Burns' favorite as they seemed "regal" to him. He smoothed his clothing and left his house.

Meanwhile, Mr. Burns was a panicking mess. He didn't know what to do or what to say when Waylon arrived, and he was sure he would mess things up. Smithers had always been the romantic one, and Mr. Burns wasn't sure if he should try anything to seduce his assistant and lover, but he picked up some flowers anyways. A sudden ring of the front doorbell sent a wave of panic and anxiety through the older man. He awkwardly stumbled to the front door, and opened it slowly to reveal Smithers. 

"Hello, Sir," his assistant said, holding out white roses. Mr. Burns wasn't sure if he had turned as pale as the roses, or darker than red ones at the gesture. He accepted them and muttered a "thanks" to Smithers, earning a chuckle from him.

"I-I brought you some flowers as well . . . now don't judge them just yet," Mr. Burns held out a bouquet of budded red roses, which had earned a very confused look from the cashier. Smithers raised an eyebrow. "T-the buds are to symbolize . . . our relationship," now, Burns was sure his face turned bright red. Smithers started to laugh, and took them carefully from him.

"I love them, Sir."

"Good . . ."

Smithers helped his lover into the car before getting in himself, driving them to the Italian restaurant. It appeared into view shortly, and they both exited the vehicle.

Walking into the restaurant, it was clear that it was a dining place for lovers. All around them sat couples, most of them straight with the occasional male and male or female and female. Smithers could feel his boss visibly stiffen beside him. "I-I had no idea that homosexual couples expressed themselves this openly," he said.

Smithers chuckled. "Well, a lot of things have changed since you were a teenager, Sir."

"C. Montgomery Burns," Mr. Burns said to the waiter, who checked their reservation and showed them to their seat. Smithers thanked the waiter who shot him a wink and left. "Well, Smithers, what do you think of the place? I thought it seemed cozy enough to have a nice conversation."

"I'd go anywhere as long as it was with you," Smithers said, causing Burns to blush. "But I do rather like this place."

Throughout the night, they ordered, and discussed work-related situations over wine. "Mr. Burns, I have something to say."

Burns cocked an eyebrow at his assistant. "Well? Out with it then."

"I-I just wanted you to know that you don't have to feel like you owe anything to me --- you don't. Just because of-"

"Smithers, I want you to know that I do not feel as if I owe you anything. I love you, Waylon, and I want to have this relationship with you. Just because what happened happened does not mean that future attempts will not be successful in the future. It's alright, Waylon. And a very wise man once said to me when I needed it the most, 'it will be okay in the end, and if it's not okay, it's not the end.'"

"I-I really appreciate it, Sir."

"And don't call me 'Sir' when we're not in work. I like being called 'Monty.'"

"Very well then, Monty," Waylon said with a wink.

"I think I am ready to retire, how about you, Waylon?" Smithers always felt a rush when Mr. Burns called him by his first name, and now was no different.

"Sounds great, Monty."

As they drove home, Smithers became more and more hopeful based off of their previous conversation, but told himself not to expect anything from Burns. He would come to him in his own time when he was ready. And God knew that Waylon was ready.


	18. Chapter eighteen - Ready

Smithers awoke the next morning with a small sense of joy. Sure, things had been rocky, but they were improving . . . right? Mr. Burns had seemed to be acting more warmly towards his assistant, and he noticed it.

He got into his car quickly, urgent to get to work and see his love. Speeding to the power plant, he thought up quickly what he would say. Maybe something along the lines of, "I love you and would love you for whoever you are and what you do," which seemed a bit forward, but it was true.

He walked into his boss' office, preparing a greeting when he noticed that Burns was nowhere to be found within the office. He walked outside, and saw a worker in the plant whom he recognized to be Lenny. "Hey, have you seen Mr. Burns?" Smithers asked. Lenny shrugged, and continued walking with his coffee. Smithers started to grow panicky. Who knows what could have happened to him? He was so helpless . . . anything could have happened! He decided he would call Mr. Burns, and ask him as calmly as he could where he was. Surely, he would have told him about plans if they interfered with his schedule. Surely?

Dialing the number, he listened on the other end for what seemed like a lifetime. Eventually, the other end clicked, and Mr. Burns' voice sounded. "Ahoy hoy?"

"Mr. Burns! I'm so happy to hear your voice. Where are you? Do you need me to drive you to work? I-"

"Nonsense, Smithers, all of this is intentional, I assure you. I merely have a surprise planned for you."

A surprise? Smithers thought with excitement. "What is it?"

"Good God, Man, don't you know the definition of a surprise?"

"Well . . . yes. I suppose I can wait. Not even a hint?"

"Not even a hint. I know you'd figure it out, Waylon," Smithers couldn't see, but he could tell Mr. Burns winked on the other end.

"Well . . . I suppose that's alright," Smithers chuckled. "What should I do in anticipation of this surprise?"

"Stay at work --- I'll pick you up after."

"Please tell me you're not going to drive."

"Precisely. It's your surprise, so you get to be chauffeured," Mr. Burns protested. Smithers would rather not die that day, but he accepted. "I'll see you at 3:30 sharp," Mr. Burns said before hanging up.

All of the rest of the day, Smithers waited in anticipation for the surprise that was to come. Was it possible that Monty had a romantic dinner prepared for them? Or perhaps . . . something more? Smithers blushed, telling his mind not to go there. Nothing good ever came to a person with expectations. He decided to wait out 3:30, doing as much work as he could muster before Mr. Burns showed up at the plant.

His job proved to be much more difficult than he had thought without Mr. Burns around. Sure, Mr. Burns had done the job solo, but Smithers started to wonder how it was possible, as he considered him to be less capable in the work department than Smithers.

3:30 rolled around slowly, and before he knew what was happening, he heard a loud honk from a car. He looked out the window of his boss' office, and sure enough, there was Mr. Burns behind the wheel of an old-looking vehicle. Smithers rushed downstairs and out to the car, smiling at how well dressed and refined his lover looked.

"It's very nice to see you Sir."

"I could say the same about you, Waylon. And like I said, none of that 'Sir' business. You will call me Monty tonight."

"Y-yes, Monty," Smithers said, blushing.

Getting in the car, Smithers crossed his fingers that Burns wouldn't get them both killed that night, but just in case, he stored a first aid kit under his seat for the sole purpose of if his boss decided to make a bold decision. That, and any natural medical crisises. Mr. Burns drove surprisingly well that night, and Smithers let out a long exhale he didn't know he had been keeping.

To his surprise, Burns drove them back to his mansion, stepping out of the car to help his assistant out.

"Well, this is a change," Smithers chuckled. "I'm usually the one picking you up, driving you home, and helping you out of the car."

Burns chuckled. "Yes, I suppose so, my dear Waylon, but all of the tables are turning tonight," he said with a wink. The two descended to the front doors of the mansion, and Smithers unlocked the door and opened it, revealing the large stretch of space that was the Burns manor. He couldn't help but gasp each time he saw it with such a flourish as this. "Like what you see?" Mr. Burns joked.

"Very, very much," Smithers said in a flirtatious tone.

Mr. Burns led them to a private room that Smithers had seen only once --- it was fairly small, yet surprisingly roomy, and there was a small table with wine glasses and candles set up. "Oh, Monty, you didn't!" He gasped.

"Oh, but I did . . . I did this all for you, Waylon."

"I love you so very much, Monty."

"And I love you, my dear, dear Waylon."

Mr. Burns helped Smithers into his seat before taking his own. He snapped his fingers, and a slightly plump girl arrived, carrying a bottle of wine. She uncorked it, pouring some in each glass in front of the couple. Mr. Burns smiled and thanked her as Smithers did the same. Wow, Mr. Burns was in a good mood.

"Tell me, Waylon. What would you like to eat?"

Smithers couldn't help but have some dirty thoughts pop into his mind at the question, but he suppressed them instead. "Well, I have a few things in mind . . ." Damnit. Well, so much for suppressing. Mr. Burns rolled his eyes. "But I would like a turkey ceaser salad, please."

"Very well, Waylon. I'll have the same."

"But-"

"I trust what you eat," it was a strange statement, but Waylon accepted it, laughing lightly to himself. "I have been thinking a lot more lately, Waylon," Smithers rose an eyebrow. " . . . about us. I wasn't sure I was ready to have a relationship like this, but all of these events . . . everything that has led up to this moment has just proved to me that I am ready for this. So I wanted to say this to you personally. Waylon," Mr. Burns put a hand on his lover's. "I love you, and I'm ready."


	19. Chapter nineteen - A Lifetime Or a Year (Smut!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter includes smut! Please skip this chapter if you are uncomfortable with that. If not, enjoy!

"Monty . . . I don't know what to say . . . are you sure?"

"Of course I am, Waylon. I've been waiting a year for this," Mr. Burns told him, which caught Smithers off guard. He had thought that his boss was new to this feeling towards him.

Smithers leaned in closer to his boss, planting a hand on the wall behind him so that he had Monty trapped. "A year?" he snorted lightly. "I've waited a lifetime, Monty," he leaned in even closer to kiss him, starting with his neck, sucking lightly. He moved to his jawline, outlining the obvious bone structure with small kisses before placing one on his lips.

"Oh, Waylon . . ." his boss lulled. "I could never beat that, could I?"

"You still have time to make it up to me," Waylon said in between kisses.

"I suppose I do."

The two adjourned to Monty's bedroom, Smithers laying his boss onto the bed. "If you ever need anything, let me know. I don't want you to hesitate."

"Don't worry, Waylon --- I will."

Smithers continued kissing his boss' neck, jawline, and behind his ear, earning moans from Monty. "I-I don't think I can take anymore of this, Smithers, please . . ."

"Are you sure you want to be on the, erm, receptive side?" Waylon asked. Mr. Burns nodded slowly, sure.

"I am more than ready to experience these new sensations you have in store for me, Waylon," he said with a smirk.

Smithers retrieved the small bottle of liquid from the previous night, setting it onto the nightstand. He slowly undressed himself, blushing slightly at Mr. Burns' stares. He undressed his boss like he had done so many times before --- yet this time seemed different. He remembered with a jolt the previous experience they had had where Waylon felt similarly. Hopefully though, this time would have better results.

Smithers carefully removed his boss' pants and underwear, not helping but marveling at the sight provided in front of him. "I-I love you," he stuttered.

"I love you too, my dear Waylon. Now, tell me what you want."

"I . . . I would like so dearly to share the experiences I have always dreamed of experiencing with you. To put it ever so bluntly, I would like to fuck you," Smithers said awkwardly. Burns replied with a shiver.

"And so you shall. Tonight, I am all yours. I know how long you've been waiting for this, Waylon, and at this point, I find it abnormally cruel to deprive you of this . . . especially when I would like just as much to indulge you."

That was all Smithers needed to hear as he quickly and swiftly grabbed the bottle of liquid, pouring some into his hand before spreading it onto himself and his lover. Burns twitched slightly at the sudden sensation on his perineum, but quickly relaxed as he assured himself that he was ready this time. And he was.

Smithers slowly positioned himself near Monty's entrance, gasping at the contact. Getting the OK from Mr. Burns, he pressed slightly. Mr. Burns' body protested a bit at the sudden pressure, but he inhaled deeply, and his entrance obliged. Slowly pressing into him, Waylon repressed the sudden moans that were threatening to betray him. When Mr. Burns stroked Smithers' arm, he let go. He let out a slow, unstrained moan, pressing in deeper, needing and wanting more contact and friction. Mr. Burns put up his hand, signaling him to stop. He took a moment before motioning for Smithers to continue. After a while, Waylon was fully submerged in Monty. He paused for Mr. Burns to give him the signal before proceeding, pulling out slightly, then moving back in, quicker than before. This pattern continued slowly before Waylon thrusted into Monty with more force.

Monty let out a sharp gasp as he felt Waylon hit a part of him that he hadn't felt before. "W-what . . .?" he gasped in confusion. Waylon chuckled. 

"I believe that's your prostate, Sir."

"Please continue," Monty breathed.

Smithers continued to thrust into his lover with force, and it didn't take long before he felt a familiar knot form in his core. He said in between gasps, "M-Monty, I'm-"

"Just do it, Smithers. I -" he winced in pleasure. "I want to indulge you like this."

"B-but Sir-"

"Waylon!" he gasped. "I need you . . . to do this. Please, I-" Monty let out another loud moan, bucking his hips as Smithers hit his prostate yet again. "Smithers, I need you to come for me!"

Smithers couldn't take it anymore --- he thrust even deeper inside his lover, finally reaching his end's wit. He thrust in once more, letting out a strained sound of pleasure. Mr. Burns could feel a warm liquid fill him inside, and it furthered his pleasure. He felt his own cock twitch with the new sensation, wanting to meet the same fate his assistant had reached. 

Smithers pulled out completely from his boss.

"Waylon . . ."

"O-oh!" Smithers said in realization. He quickly moved his mouth to his boss' cock, engulfing him inside of his own mouth. He continued with bobbing motions, quickening his pace as he felt Burns twitch inside his mouth again.

"Waylon, I believe I'm going to-" Monty was cut off by the sudden feeling that overtook him. A knot that he didn't even know was there began to grow larger and larger, tighter and tighter before the sensation was overwhelming. Burns yelled out a choked groan, releasing all of the tension that had been formed.

A warm, salty liquid filled Waylon's mouth, and though the taste may have been considered disgusting to some, Smithers was overjoyed to take in his boss' essence. He swallowed it all, licking his lover's cock clean afterwards. 

Mr. Burns laid on his bed, his chest heaving, and his breaths audible.

"Smithers, I . . . that was . . ." he paused. "Excellent."

Smithers let out a chuckle, laying on the bed beside him. "I agree."

"I love you more than words can express, Waylon."

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to say those exact words to you," Smithers said. He felt Burns adjust so that half of him was laying on Waylon's chest. His head was cradled in the hollow of Waylon's neck as he sighed.

"I could spend an eternity like this."

"Let's."

Smithers sighed as both of them drifted off into sleep, cradled in each other's arms, both of them more than content, and willing to stay there forever.


	20. Chapter twenty - Memories

Smithers woke up the next morning, feeling strangely well-rested --- a feeling he hadn't felt for months now. He turned over in the rather large bed to notice two things: one, he was in Mr. Burns' bed in Mr. Burns' mansion, and two, Monty was nowhere to be found. Smithers' mind flitted quickly over the prior night's events, a small smile creeping onto his face. It happened, he thought with a sigh. 

Getting out of the canopy bed, Smithers made his way stumbling around the mansion, but his lover was nowhere to be seen. He made his way to the kitchen, hungry, only to find Mr. Burns in the kitchen with a pan and eggs. He smiled at Smithers when he caught sight of him. "I see you're awake," Mr. Burns said.

"S-Sir, I did not expect you to be making breakfast. I could easily-"

"I know, Smithers, but frankly you looked too cute to disturb, and an idea popped into my brain. So I decided to make you breakfast," he said with a shrug. "Plus, I've always wanted to try my hand at making eggs," Monty winked.

Setting the plate in front of him, Monty retrieved some other things he had made for Waylon. Some bacon and a biscuit settled on the plate as well, as Monty stepped back and admired his work. "Not bad, if I do say so myself."

"Monty, I'll eat anything you serve me," Smithers said with a wink. Mr. Burns blushed a deep shade of red at the remark.

"Well I can be a three course meal if you want, Waylon."

Finishing his breakfast, Smithers checked his watch. "Oh dear God, we're going to be late!"

"Calm down, Smithers. I called in to let the employees know that we'd be a little late into work this morning --- there's no harm done."

Smithers settled down, still quickly gathering his belongings and his boss'. "Nevertheless, we'd better hurry."

Mr. Burns complied, letting Smithers practically drag him to their car. He got into the backseat, settling in, and sighing. Smithers could see from the rear-view mirror that his boss had taken on a deep shade of scarlet onto his face. Smithers blushed at this as well.

Smithers drove them to the power plant as quickly as possible, getting there at around 11:30. Helping his boss out of the car, they made their way into the plant, earning strange looks from co-workers who quite possibly guessed the events that had occurred the previous night. "Pay them no mind, Sir," Smithers whispered to Mr. Burns. He nodded, keeping his head forward.

When Mr. Burns got to his desk in his office, he let out a groan at the sight in front of him. Piles upon piles of unfinished paperwork sat on his desk, looming over him. He called Smither's office.

"Yes?" Smithers answered.

"Waylon, I hate to ask this of you, but there are piles and piles of paperwork on my desk, and I was wondering if we could go through them immediately."

"Like . . . together?"

"That'd be more entertaining, yes."

"I'll be right there, Sir."

\------------------

For the rest of the day, each time they passed each other, Smithers always shot his boss a flirtatious look or vice versa. Mr. Burns blushed each time the exchange occurred, not even bothering to hide it.

When the end of the day came, Smithers accompanied Mr. Burns to their car. He drove them to the Burns mansion, not asking if he should come inside. Mr. Burns took ahold of his hand, leading him into the building and letting go of it once they were inside.

"I-I'll make us some dinner," Smithers stuttered. He found it hard to concentrate as he whipped up something simple. Monty watched him quietly from the other side of the room, not speaking.

Once Smithers was done, he laid out the simple meal in front of his boss. "So," Mr. Burns started after both of them had eaten. "What are your plans for tonight, Waylon?"

"I-I'm not sure, Sir. I don't really have anything planned."

"Oh. Well, I have nothing planned either, what a coincidence," Mr. Burns played.

"Well, isn't that interesting," Smithers chuckled. "I have an idea that could solve both of our problems."

"Oh? And what might that idea be, my dear Waylon?"

Smithers gave him his best smirk, leaning forward.

"I think I'll stay here tonight."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of A Subtle Confession! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I honestly think this is the longest story I've ever written, as it's twenty chapters long while I usually write shorter stories. I moved this one from Wattpad to Ao3 because I am choosing to leave Wattpad. It will take me a little while to move what I want to keep here, but in the meantime, you can check out my Wattpad as well, which I will no longer be using, but my previous stories will remain published. My username is the same there (Kuroenamel).  
> I just wanted to thank you so much for reading this story! Please let me know what you think in the comments, as I would love to hear feedback. <3


End file.
